I was a B- student in high school. I made straight A's like my brothers until seventh grade. The school went to modular scheduling, rendering me an hour or two of free time a day, and I used my breaks to sneak cigarettes, looking at Charlotte's tits and nipples, and dreaming of running away or killing myself.
I came home with a 76 on a history test, and my father went wild. Trembling with rage, he picked up my history book, flipped to a random page, and told me that I was going to be locked in my room until I memorized the entire page perfectly and recited it perfectly to him. He told me that I was going to do something perfectly once in my life.
And so it came to pass that I was locked in my room for three days. He was enraged and out of control, and he tested me and then terrorized me when I failed every hour he was awake and not at work.
When he was at work, my mother had no sympathy for me. She wouldn't let me out of my room. She made me study memorizing that history book page. I don't remember much else about it except wondering if I was going to have to kill myself to get out of this insanity. I didn't study very much. I fantasized about killing him, killing myself, running away.
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